“How on earth did you recognise me?”
“Recognise you?”
“When – well, in that alley in Meryton. I had a hat pulled down well over my face and was certain I would not be recognised.”
Mary reddened. How was she to say that she recognised him from the breadth of his shoulders, the muscles of his thighs?
“Miss Bennet?”
“You have a rather different physical appearance from most of the gentlemen of my acquaintance,” she managed to say.
“But my hat was pulled – oh, I see,” he said, finally understanding. All those hours spent in the saddle and in swinging a heavy sword had paid off in the most unexpected way! A wide grin spread over his face. “Should I consider that a compliment?” He was teasing her now.
“If you like,” she replied, suddenly finding that she could tease him back.
After the first dance, he brought her to Mr. Bingley, who had claimed her for the second dance. Then he whispered, “I shall see you at supper, Miss Bennet,” and then he briefly squeezed her hand. Yes, squeezed her hand!
Mr. Bingley managed not to chuckle at seeing calm, unruffled Mary Bennet stare after the Colonel for all the world like a schoolgirl with a crush.
Mr. Gardiner danced with Mary after Mr. Bingley and then, wonder of wonders, the Colonel’s elder brother, the Viscount, danced with her! She had never, ever dreamed of dancing with as superior a personage as a Viscount!
But though he was everything polite and well-mannered, she thought that he could not hold a candle to the Colonel.
Other gentlemen, seeing her dance with such a superior personage as the Viscount, concluded that she must be someone of importance, and they begged for introductions.
During a lull in the dancing, Elizabeth came to ascertain her well-being. She found Mary grinning from ear to ear, for she had danced every single dance, and two of them with Colonel Fitzwilliam! Never had there been such a magical night! She could not wait to write to her mother.
***
Georgiana was in a light cream gown with white ribbon around the bodice and sleeves. The bodice was extremely modest, and she wore no jewelry. All in all, she looked exactly like who she was – a young lady of good character from an excellent family, who was not yet out, but was being permitted to attend a family ball.
Georgiana’s uncle, the Earl of Matlock, danced with the Countess for the first dance, but came to escort Georgiana to the dance floor for the second. After that, she was permitted to dance with her brother, her cousins – both the Colonel and the Viscount, whose attendance had been quite a surprise to everyone – but no one else. Even Mr. Bingley was not permitted to dance with her. She and Elizabeth had nullified most of theill will that had been generated by the newspaper article, but her family was taking no chances.
When not dancing, she sat in a chair by a wall, her ankles carefully crossed and her hands, encased in white gloves, resting on her lap. Her demure costume and equally demure manner were convincing to anyone who might still look at her askance. She sat with Elizabeth and William at dinner, and then returned to her chair.
She was visited many times by her family, checking on her well-being – Elizabeth, Mary, even Miss Bingley! She had been concerned that she would feel abandoned, sitting on her own on the sidelines, but that was not the case at all.
“May I join you, Miss Darcy?”
Georgiana looked up. The speaker was a young gentleman, perfectly dressed, but completely unknown to her.
She turned away, refusing to answer. Her reputation, so recently restored, might suffer were she to speak to someone she did not know, someone whose own reputation might be in question!
Despite her refusal to respond, the gentleman sat beside her. “I am told you are a great proficient on the pianoforte, Miss Darcy, and I have longed to meet you.”
She did not respond, looking steadfastly away.
“Georgiana?”
“Oh, Uncle! This man just came and sat – but I said nothing – and –“ Her words spilled out.
“Georgiana, allow me to present the Marquess of Hartington, the eldest son of the Duke of Devonshire. Lord Hartington, this is my niece, Miss Darcy.”
Her face flaming, Georgiana rose and curtsied to the Marquess. “I am sorry to have been rude,” she whispered.
“Not at all,” he replied, graciously. “I ought not to have approached you without an introduction.”
The Earl then smiled and winked at Georgiana and left the two young people alone. It turned out that he was a devotee of the pianoforte and had heard her praised as a great proficient; they spent the next hour happily discussing their favourite composers.
